The Croatoans: Account 1
by OrionSTARB0Y
Summary: First account to the unwritten history/lore of the zone Croatoa in the PC MMO City of Heroes, telling the mystical story of a Roanoke-esque settlement in the form of letters.
1. Chapter 1

The Croatoans:

Tales of the Settlement of Salamanca

A City of Heroes Fan Fiction by Orion Petitclerc

_The First Account: Letters from Dr. John Berkeley_

The letters collected and presented to the reader have only been recently released by the Parliament of Great Britain by permission of Prime Minister Gerald Meriwether to the Museum of Paragon City History. These documents are a part of an investigation into the history of the province of Salamanca, notably nicknamed by inhabitants "Croatoa", to uncover the origin of the unique mystical properties and beings present the said region. These documents are confidential, and are to remain visual to your eyes only.

The following collection of letters was written by Doctor John Berkeley, a respectable Englishman who held degrees in medicine, biology, psychology, and research in paranormal activity. In 1646, King Charles I of Great Britain assigned Dr. Berkeley and his assistant, Jeremiah Collingsworth, to the investigation of reported paranormal activity in the New World British Colony of Salamanca. These letters provide Dr. Berkeley's account of his time spent in Salamanca up to a sudden discontinuation in the report of the investigation. Parliament and English Historians confirm that the discontinuation is no accident, and that no information or documents have been held back. It is assumed that either the said missing documents are yet to be recovered or there were in fact no letters to continue the account.

October 19, 1646

To my sire, King Charles the First of Great Britain,

As per your request I have begun my long, arduous journey to the New World, particularly the colony of Salamanca. I fear the rumors of the condition of Salamanca have spread across the crew of the ship you have assigned to me, creating a heightened sense of superstition and fear. Captain Shills, however, is more than qualified to quell the fears of his crew. I still hold true to my educated opinion, and only desire for my liege to dismiss these rumors as nothing more than folk tales. It is in my experience that most talk of witchcraft or the supernatural is nothing more than paranoia with its triggers, and cannot be grounded by pure and simple _science_. This is not to say, however, that I do not believe in the damned as well as the divine.

If you shall so pardon me, I have in my acquaintance on this venture my protégé, Mr. Jeremiah Collingsworth, who shall be at my side at all times gaining experience in the field I profess unless I otherwise instruct him. He is young, but wise, and an excellent assistant. I assure you he shall not impede this investigation.

The good Captain informs me our voyage shall last only three days, if providence holds us. He also informs me that he shan't step ashore once we beach, as he is but a goods-runner making a delivery of supplies to Salamanca and shall be off to continue his duty once the goods have been received. He has assigned to my colleague and I a pair of sailors, whose duties are to both deliver the goods to the town and accompany us as guards against the savages and otherwise, if it be the case. I am generous to Captain Shills for his concern for our well-being.

The bell beckons the sea! I shall write again when I have arrived within Salamanca's walls.

Until then, with much ado,

Doctor John Berkeley


	2. Chapter 2

October 24, 1646

To my sire, King Charles the First of Great Britain,

I am pleased to inform you that my colleague and I have safely reached the Salamancan province. It appears the sea possessed a mind of its own, defying Captain Shills' previous estimated length of sailing. Nonetheless, the ship survived a small storm in transit. I am also pleased to announce that my landing party met no hostiles in combat. However, our sailor escorts barely endured their own superstitions in the journey. The forest surrounding Salamanca has a certain degree of mysticism to its nature: the ground was blanketed in autumn leaves as it is blanketed by snow in the winter, but the trees themselves retain an unnatural abundance of their orange and yellow leaves. It is as if, as the sailors claimed, the woods were magic. It was indeed strange how the trees could retain so much of their leaves compared to how much had been apparently lost.

I am in awe of the silence of the forest surrounding Salamanca as well. One would assume to be able to hear the sounds of the ocean near Salamanca, for the settlement is closer to the sea than it sounds. It is as if the forest eagerly swallows all sounds of nature, leaving an echoless void occasionally broken by the rustle of leaves in the wind. Or am I truly lost in the woods? The distance between Salamanca and the beach may feel shorter when traveled that it really is, and possibly the absence of the oceanic noise is completely natural. It is strange how these woods can disorient the directionless.

When Mr. Collingsworth and I passed the walls of Salamanca, the sailor escorts we were assigned made haste back to their vessel, fearing what ghouls and goblins emerge in the night. I am still confident there is nothing to fear here, maybe except for an infection or disease. The state of your settlement is poor, at best. The fears of the village people have taken the best of them: food is scarce, waste defiles the corners and streets, and most of the tools, houses, and carriages are in need of repair. The Salamancans fear to venture far outside of their homes; even the guardsmen at the bridge outside of the settlement were exhausted and unkempt. An unseen darkness grips this town and its citizens in fear.

The sheriff of Salamanca, one Mister Harold Barnes, was the first person Mr. Collingsworth and I were introduced to. Sheriff Barnes at last revealed to me the nature of Salamanca's ailment: the settlement was regularly terrorized by witches and their curses. There are three witches haunting Salamanca, all referred to as the Circes sisters. Their names are Morgana, Sable, and Marion, and they dwell deep in the forest outside of Salamanca. Sheriff Barnes ceased to explain any more, as he had to return to overseeing the securing of the town for nightfall. It is custom for the Salamancans to bar their doors and consecrate their dwellings with holy water each night, no doubt to protect their families from the witches and their magic.

Sheriff Barnes has allowed my companion and I to reside in the church for this night only, and in the morning we shall be relocated to a proper dwelling. It is in the church where I met the venerable Mayor Daniel Williams, and dare I say he has proven a pleasant host thus far. The Mayor helped make arrangements for Mr. Collingsworth and I to station ourselves on a loft in the church with a placement in the wall for us to observe these nightly haunting on the streets.

It is nearly dark, and I must prepare myself for a nocturnal study. I shall write again in the morrow.

Sincerely,

Doctor John Berkeley


End file.
